Welcome to the Charles Xavier Broadcast
by harenai
Summary: In which Erik needs to find a last minute replacement for the midnight radio story broadcast and Charles appears at the studio's doorstep.


First off, let me just say that this story, is basically a head canon. And that it is un beta-ed and any I do apologize in advance if it downright sucks. Okay, that is all.

* * *

Erik Lehnsherr had things in his life that he liked and disliked. Things he liked included going home on time after a hard day at work, or scaring every other intern at his workplace into thinking he's actually got a prison record for sucking the soul out of his previous neighbor's body. He liked his solitude and the quietness of the street as he walked home in the stillness of the night. He liked his Sunday day offs, the morning jogs, and the wonderful aroma of his favorite coffee at the queer little café near his workplace. It often made getting through work loaded nights much easier.

He liked his life to be free of attachments and that also meant he was, according to Emma, he was pretty much a lonely graying old man who would eventually die with 27 cats whose dead rotting bodies would be placed alongside Erik's in the tiny little coffin. He scoffed at that of course. _I'm not that old anyway, I think._And he wasn't really going to die alone, he was just waiting for the right one, which at this moment in time, didn't seem to be happening. Maybe he just needed to wait and be patient. Good things come to those who wait right?

But then he seemed to have been waiting for an awfully long time fact, he seemed to have been waiting for a few years now. During which, Emma's already managed to change boyfriends a couple of times now despite her incredibly crazy ass standards of men.

_Ah fuck it, I don't need anyone,_he thought. Now wouldn't have been right time anyway. Shaw's finally expanding the radio station and since he hates Erik so damn much, for reasons Erik cannot fathom, he's thrown a whole bunch of timeslots for him to fill and manage. As if he wasn't already managing half the radio broadcasts.

Anyway, back to the main topic. Erik liked that due to his increasingly rising temper that came with the increasingly rising workload, his colleagues feared him, (aside from Azazel and Emma of course).They didn't dare go near him for fear of 'death by sudden Erik outrage'. No one wanted to die in his hands, especially not in his hands, which, according to Sean, would have been a painful _painful_ death.

If he was a slight tad bit honest, he was probably a power freak and just liked the feeling of being in control of his life and also it was hilarious when he stared Sean down into a scared whimpering kid. 'Please don't kill me, I'm still a virgin' Sean practically whined. Upon which Erik had just rolled his eyes.

Lastly, he liked it when plans ran smoothly and the radio broadcasts he were handling didn't decide that it was alright to cancel out on him just like that.

So when his bat shit crazy boss, Shaw, had decided to cancel the upcoming broadcast at the last bloody minute, he decided that life could not have gotten any worse. Shaw had barged into his office approximately two hours before the weekly midnight story time radio broadcast, proclaiming the imminent disasters that will fall upon them should they continue with the broadcast. The wreckage of a series will not, and must not go on. _'One more broadcast and we'll lose enough listeners to close down this entire station'._ And then he'd left Erik the remaining time to ponder on how the hell he was going to find a replacement at the last minute.

Sure, the new radio show wasn't as great as Shaw had wanted it to be, but come on, it wasn't that bad. Was it? It just wasn't as wonderfully scripted as the previous stories, but we can't always have cream of the crop graduates rushing to get their scripts in now can we? He supposed the largest problem was that the ratings kept dropping with each passing night, and the story plot was pretty much flawed with plot holes.

What with a protagonist who meets a magical dancing elephant and goes meeting beautiful princesses and wonderful fairies and—okay scratch that, it was absolute horseshit. It was a disastrous story and it really mustn't go on.

So now that Erik has settled the problem of the constantly dropping ratings, all he had to do was find a last bloody minute replacement, two hours before the show begins. Really, who the hell would pop up at a time like this?

Oh god, he was so dead. He was so going to get fired and he'd have to live on bread and cheese all over again. Maybe even start working as a bartender at that pub he used to work at a few years ago.

It wasn't a bad experience per say, it just wasn't really all that wonderful when half the people that were there kept hitting on you just cause they had the excuse of being drunk. And it was often made worse when most of them smelled like vomit and sweat and kept touching Erik's arm, telling him how wonderful they felt.

God, he really didn't want to experience that all over again. He crushed the paper he'd been scribbling on and threw it into the paper bin.

There was an hour left and Erik still hadn't managed to get anyone fill in the timeslot. He'd tried everyone in his contact list, and even got Azazel to check with his own list. Heck he even sort of pleaded Emma for help but it was to no avail. As the last resort he even called up the previous try outs but none could make it with such short notice.

So he sighed once more, downing another cup of coffee while his right hand scribbled unrecognizable words and pictures onto a fresh new blank piece of paper, filling the small recording room with the barely audible scratching noises.

"That's what you always do when you're stress. It's not going to help." Erik peered up and his eyes settled on the blonde leaning on the frame of the opened door. Her hips were slightly cocked to the side while her figure hugging little black dress accentuated the curves of her body; a little too much even.

He scoffed. "Yeah well, when you've got your job on the line, and you have every intention of keeping it, it can get pretty fucking stressful. Just so you know." He took a huge gulp and began again. "Raven, is it?"

"Yes, it's Raven. Seriously, I've been here for about three months now and you're still not sure of my name? Anyway, I saw you freaking out just now after you left his office. Anything happened?" Raven's voice somehow sounding as though she was actually concerned, although they've never really spoken with each other before. The girl must be an intern. Shaw's been accepting quite some interns these past months.

"I wasn't freaking out. And besides, it's none of your business now, is it?"

Raven rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, sure you weren't Mr Lehnsherr." She grabbed the chair beside him and sat down. "You know, it's not like it's going to hurt if you told me about it anyway. For all you know, I might even be able to help."

This time Erik snorted. _Seriously, who is this kid. What the hell does she want from me,_ he thought.

Figuring it probably wouldn't hurt to tell her, he sighed and set the mug down. "Shaw's decided to cancel the midnight broadcast at the last fucking minute. So now I'm pretty much left with no replacement and in about three more hours, I'll probably be jobless too. And unless you're going to tell me you've got someone you can bring in right now, right this instant, I think you should probably leave. Unless of course you'd like to be jobless too." He said with probably more spite then was really needed. But he did have a reputation to keep and considering how this Raven person had just walked up to him and spoke to him like they had been best friends since ever, he probably needed to pull out a few stops again.

Despite that, Raven didn't seem to have picked up on the tone of his voice. That or she simply didn't care. "I do actually. I know someone who does story based radio broadcasts, or however you call it. Story telling broadcast? Radio broadcast series? Anyway, I'll go call him up now and tell him to come over right now."

"Oh?" Erik raised one brow questioningly. _Well that was surprising._ "Who is he? Do I know him?"

But Raven simply smirked and walked out the recording room and left with a, "You'll see." And that was it.

For no reason at all, Erik's heart was pounding, and he wasn't sure why. It wasn't panic that he felt, and if anything, he should be feeling relief. But he didn't, because now all he felt was excitement and adrenaline. And for some reason, he had the weirdest feeling that something really big was going to happen.

* * *

Fifteen minutes before the show, Charles had appeared at the doorstep of the run down studio, one gloved hand clutching onto an already worn out leather briefcase, and the other hiding in the pocket of his denim blue jeans. To be honest, he didn't look quite like the kind of men a girl like Raven would hang out with; he looked far too academically nerdy for a bombshell of a woman like her.

"Hello, nice to meet you. My name's Charles Xavier." The man stuck his hand out, patiently waiting for Erik to shake it. What he hadn't expected for Erik to grab at it with such force, pulling his entire body through the door and into the studio that Charles almost tripped on his own footing.

"That is some handshake you've got there." Charles laughed good naturedly. "Sorry I couldn't arrive earlier. You see, I normally end classes at 8, but then Raven called and—

"Charles." Erik said. To which earned him a soft smile and a look of curiosity and childlike innocence such that Erik's mind seemed to have shut off for awhile there and then, the words lost on his lips.

"Yes?" Charles asked.

Erik quickly broke out of his, if he would dared to admit, embarrassingly blatant staring and cleared his throat. He guided them past the reception office. "We'll need to hurry up and get you settled. The broadcast starts in less than ten minutes."

"W-wait, hold on, don't you want to read what I have or something?" He clutched his briefcase to his chest while Erik had one hand at the small of his back, pushing him through the door, his brows knitted in concentration.

"No time. Hurry up." Erik practically growled.

"Alright." Charles said. "Okay, but what would you like me to read? I brought along quite a few stories here with me since I wasn't really sure what you wanted. Raven didn't exactly tell me much just that I was to bring all the best ones. I have one with forensics science in it, and another one about a student from –"

"Just read the best one."

"The best one?" Charles asked while he settled into the chair, already going through his papers.

Erik left the room and entered the other one where the glass door would lay between them both. He plugged in the mic from his side. "Yes, the best one. Most interesting one. Whichever you like, just pick one." He rolled his eyes. _Seriously, this guy sure asks a hell lot of questions. Where in the world did Raven find him. Ah, forget it, he's a just a one night fill in anyway._

"Alright. I'll just do the mutant one then." Charles said, mostly to himself, while he flipped through a few pages, supposedly reading through and familiarizing himself with the story again.

When instincts finally kicked in, Erik picked up the script and skimmed through it before nodding approvingly. Then Erik went through the broadcast's opening lines and started the countdown.

"We're starting in 10, 9, 8…" His voice was a steady and strong at first and then decreased into a decrescendo and eventually mouthed the last few seconds. _"Begin, now."_

When Erik had first pushed the man into the recording studio, he hadn't really fully taken in the little details of how he looked. Charles Xavier. He rolled the name on his tongue, testing it.

Right now, he was looking at Charles Xavier, last minute replacement for the night and with, in all honesty, the most wonderful English accent he has ever heard.

_"There was a sound. A clatter of pots and the soft opening of a cookie jar that came from the kitchen. It sounded like someone was stealing food. That or it could've been a burglar, Charlie really didn't know. And he was far too frightened to really want to know anyway."_

Charles spoke like he was reading a story to a bunch of kids. Erik found this charmingly endearing; the way the little wrinkles on his forehead appeared as he read. The far too red lips of his annunciating every word much clearer than all the other story tellers before him.

Erik stared. He stared at Charles through the clear glass pane. He noticed, how his hair was all floppy and sometimes getting into his face when his reading pace quickened with excitement and anxiousness for the story's protagonist.

Brown. The color of his hair was a deep dark shade of brown.

_"She looked so small, and so alone. Charlie couldn't help but reach out, offering her a glass of milk and more cookies. He wanted so desperately to help her, so he asked her to stay." _

Erik stared some more. Charles occasionally glancedat his direction with a polite smile on his face and Erik almost felt something like a flutter of butterflies in his stomach. Which obviously, couldn't be very possible given how he would never allow bright, colorful, flittery butterflies to ever come within an inch of him. He didn't hate butterflies, but he did dislike how they seem to be flittering about the insides of his body. It was an uncomfortable feeling which he half liked and half didn't.

This made it all the more uncomfortable.

_"Charlie hid the girl in his room, bringing her cookies and milk for every meal. He knew she would need to get out of that holed up place soon enough, but really, how was he ever going to convince his mother to let her stay without having to use his powers?"_

Erik was much more mesmerized by the voice of this man in the studio, then whatever story Charles was telling. Although he had to admit it was a pretty interesting story, far than any one he's ever heard at least. He'll have to remember to tell him that later on, if he remembers. God, he's already being lulled to sleep by Charles's voice. Not in a bad way of course. Damn, he needed another cup of coffee.

Half an hour later, it ended. Charles packed his papers into the briefcase and stood up to stretch, revealing a bit of his stomach, which Erik quickly noticed, was pretty toned. He seemed to have been noticing an usual amount of unnecessary things in this half hour. Odd.

"Charles, Right?" He asked, despite not quite needing to in the first place. "That was good. Really good in fact. You pretty much just saved my life tonight. And my job too, so, thank you." Erik held out his hand.

Charles looked skeptical for a moment, and then quickly grabbed the offered hand and shook it. "Thank you. I hope you enjoyed the story. I really wasn't quite sure which one to go with, but I suppose a story about mutants would be slightly more interesting to listen to than that of dancing elephants."

"Dancing elephants?" Erik stuffed his hand into his pockets, mouth quirking into a smirk.

Charles quickly realizing he had probably offended the manager of the previous story teller clutched his briefcase closer to his chest and stuttered, "Oh god! I don't mean—sorry, I didn't mean that as an insult. I just didn't think the previous radio series was all that great. I liked the other stories you handled before the dancing elephant one though, just not the elephants one in particular. It was just a slight tad too quirky for me and I didn't think it had that great of a plot and—" He trailed off after awhile, cheeks flushed and staring at anywhere else aside from the manager's face.

Charles cleared his throat and asked. "Sorry, I didn't quite get your name."

"It's Erik. Erik Lehnsherr."

"Nice to meet you Erik Lehnsherr." Charles grinned, eyes bright and intent.

Erik didn't quite know how it was possible for a complete stranger to have made him feel the way he was feeling at the moment. His head was pounding while the blood in his body rushed north, making him dizzy and lightheaded.

Then suddenly, Erik blurted out. "You have blue eyes."

Charles flushed.

"Yes. Yes I do have blue eyes. So do you." Charles said nervously, eyes staring holes into the floor.

Erik internally slapped himself for that. _Way to sound like a complete perverted idiot,_ he thought. Immediately, he cleared his throat and said, "Right. Anyway, thank you for coming here tonight. It was good." Although he knew that any normal person would've heard the stutter of his words. God, he really hoped Charles wasn't the sort to go around telling his friends about his everyday happenings. He didn't need to even be on friendly terms with Raven to know that people like her could only be blabber mouths; and he had a reputation at stake here.

Somehow through the midst of the awkwardness, he'd managed to get them both out of the recording studio and to the main door of the small building.

"Good night." Erik said.

"Good night, Erik Lehnsherr."

Then Charles turned to leave. And Erik was left with a strange pang in his heart as Charles walked down the street and later on disappeared into the night. That was odd. Very odd indeed. He'd barely known the man at all, and yet there was this feeling that felt almost like a kind of loss.

This was a very weird night indeed, but probably nothing a good cup of coffee couldn't solve. He'd have to spend the rest of the night sending out audition emails anyway, so he could definitely use the caffeine.

Strangely enough, coffee didn't help. No amount of coffee did. And then it got mildly irritating when he went pass the reception counter and an overly smug Raven came gloating about how the ratings had gone up after only five minutes into the broadcast, and he felt the need to scowl at her. Raven had rolled her eyes muttering something under her breath.

Personally he didn't know much about Raven, despite her having interned with the god forsaken company for about three months now, but he definitely didn't like her. He was of course thankful for the last minute save. Still, he didn't like her at all. Not when she's somehow managed to find a replacement that had left Erik feeling all but relief despite the fact that he was going to keep his job after all.

But when Shaw had entered his office with a deadly smile on his face, hands squeezing Erik's shoulders affirmatively and congratulating him on the job well done and then after that telling him to call the guy in the next week and continue where he left the story today, only _then_, did he feel better.

In fact, he felt better than better, he felt relief? Excitement? Glee? No, not glee, glee was much too joyous a word to use. And he for one, would never, in his life, feel _glee_.

However, he did feel content and startlingly happy. So yeah, maybe he could feel gleeful for once. Just that once.

"Charles Xavier." Erik muttered, fingers twirling a metal pen as he did so.

Looks like he won't just be a one night fill in after all.

* * *

Which was how Erik had ended up bugging the intern Raven, for Charles' number over the next few days; evidently after countless near arguments, only because Erik was so used to getting what he wanted most of the time. (Not much people could stand up to his menacing glare)

They'd somehow ended up at the nearby Starbucks, when Raven had finally given in and scribbled Charles' number onto the palm of Erik's hand, with a bribe of a cup of Starbucks of course.

"Coffee. Black. And a triple white chocolate mocha for her."

"He's a good guy. Don't you dare hurt him, or I swear I'll kill you." Raven gave her most threatening look as her one hand lay on the counter and the other on her hips.

Erik simply snorted and replied, both defensively and slightly curious. "What are you his girlfriend?"

"Ew! Seriously, never ever. Oh my god, he's so not my type. I can't imagine why anyone would ever want to date a guy like him. Not that there's anything wrong with him, but really, that's just wrong. Pretty freaking wrong, and gross."

"Wrong? Why the hell would it be wrong?" Erik asked as he typed the number into his phone. _Charles Xavier_, he thought. The name had been buzzing around in his head for awhile now. He really liked the sound of it.

"Nothing in particular. Just, take it that he isn't my type, alright?" Raven pulled her hair up into a ponytail and ran her hair through it few times. Then, she let it fall again. There was a pause between them, then her smile turned wicked. "But your friend on the other hand, is definitely my type. Azazel, right?"

"No."

"Oh come on! I gave you Charles' number! It wouldn't hurt for you to give me Azazel's one. Which I know you obviously have, considering how you guys had been friends since college."

"College? How the heck did you even know? Who the hell told you that?"

"No one. I just have my resources." Her grin was ever large and pleased. "So, please? Please, please,please? Come on, I pretty much just gave you a guy's number which you obviously intend to woo, the least you could do was give me your friend's."

Erik winced. _"What the hell? Who said anything about wooing anyone?"_ he thought. And raven continued. "Please, Erik? It's just a number!"

Erik's head had already started to fill with the sound of Raven's not so screechy voice and he was slowly forgetting what Charles' voice sounded like. He honestly had no choice but to give her the god damn number just to shut her the hell up.

"Jesus, do you ever stop talking. Here, take the god damn number." He grabbed the phone from Raven's hand and typed it in. "Don't you dare abuse that number." He muttered.

"If by that you mean don't screw him over? Hell yes I'm going to. And besides, what is he, your boyfriend or something?" She said sarcastically, earning her a half hearted German curse from Erik.

"Anyway, this is great! Thank you so much, you're the best Erik!" She took her phone and promptly left the shop, with her cup in the other hand.

_I'm the best?_ He thought. And since when had she started calling her by his name? Wasn't it Mr Lehnsherr just a day ago? Damn, he so needed to start looking pissed off all the time again, or he's going to start getting trampled over by all the other staff members. He shook his head and drank his coffee.

It was eight in the evening. He was sitting in the recording studio along with Azazel and Emma who were both going through scripts for future radio series broadcasts. Most of the submitted scripts hadn't been worth the read; with the exception of a few ones of course. But they were much too mainstream and the stories got predictable after awhile. None of them would last more than three broadcasts without the listeners already knowing what was to come next.

The good thing was, it wasn't really his problem anymore now that he's got his side of the job done. With Charles on his side, Shaw was sure to cut him some slack for a few days, so that was good.

After a few seconds, Erik dropped the script onto his lap and frowned at his train of thought.

Okay, so maybe Charles isn't exactly on his side yet. Not yet, but soon he will. After he asks him to come back for the weekly broadcast.

Which he hasn't. Yet. Because unexpectedly, he just hasn't quite gotten the guts to call him.

It wasn't even as though he was asking the guy out on a date or anything like that, it was simply to get him to come back for the Friday night broadcasts. And yet, the thought of even speaking to Charles made Erik's heart race. This made it uncomfortable and conflicting. Because at one hand, he needed to ask him to come back, and on the other, it was like he didn't, or rather didn't dare to. (Fear of screwing up, maybe?)

But how bad could it be? Just pick up the phone, press the dial button, and speak to him and ask him out. Not on a date. Just, purely work.

Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to be worried about. It wasn't as if he were speaking to Charles in person now, was he? No he wasn't. That's right. No one's going to be able to judge him when they realize he might or might not be stuttering. He's just going to call him, ask him to come back on Friday night, and maybe if things went well, they could head down to the pub after the show was done.

Yeah, that's right. That's right, that was good.

Standing up, he straightened his back and left the studio, closing the door behind him.

His heart pounded in his chest and for no reason at all, he felt himself starting to sweat. This was just a work call right? Why the fuck was he getting so fucking anxious?

"Fuck it. Get a hold of yourself. Just get it over and done with." He clutched his phone tightly in his hand.

He inhaled. Exhaled. And then without further ado, went through his contact list and the phone started ringing.

_Ring._Five seconds went by.

_Ring._And another.

_Ring._ And then another. .

And Erik was just about to give up and call another time, when it clicked and suddenly the line went through.

"Hello? Charles?" He asked.

Silence.

"Hello, is this Charles?" He asked again.

After awhile came a groan and a muffled, "Yes, hello, this is Charles Xavier speaking. Who might this be?" Which Erik didn't really want to admit, the sound of Charles' voice, (and the sound of the groan) did things to his body

"This is Erik Lehnsherr, from the radio station the other night. If you could, I'd like for you to come down to the station again this Friday and host the show."

"Oh." Charles said. And then as though the meaning of what Erik said finally processed, he exclaimed, "Oh! Yes! Erik from the radio station. How nice of you to call me. I just finished my genetics lecture and, oh bugger, it seems I fell asleep. What time is it now?"

"8.10 currently. Well you're working hard. Do lectures last that late? I did remember you saying something about ending classes at 8. So I guess you're a university student." Erik smiled. "Make sure you get enough rest, you seem like the sort who stays up late studying the night through." _Fell asleep during class, how cute._

As though hearing his thoughts, Charles laughed a little breathlessly, his mind still sleep induced. "You've got the first part wrong, my friend. I'm not a student. Though you're right, I do constantly stay up thinking of ways to make sure my students don't end up falling asleep listening to my lectures. I probably need more hours on my sleep schedule but I don't think I can afford to do that."

Erik could hear the shuffling of papers and books from the other side of the phone.

"Your students?" He asked.

"Yes, that's right. My students. I'm professor you see, a genetics professor to be more precise. But I'm actually much more interested in the study of mutation and the mutation in humans as a result of evolution. Sometimes I help Hank with his research when I have the time. Although I don't think he really needs my help so much as he actually wants the company. It can get a tad bit lonely sometimes."

"Is that how you came up with your story? Cause you're actually a genetics professor? Why didn't you tell me." Erik's voice was rougher now. There really wasn't a need for Charles to have told Erik anything about himself at all really, but Erik quickly realized there was much he wanted to find out about this man. And for some reason, discovering that Charles was actually a professor at some university just came across as really surprising. He'd figured Charles would be on the academic side of profession, but never considered the possibility of a genetics teache—no, a professor, and a genetics professor at that.

"Sorry, I didn't think I'd be going back to the station at all. I figured it would probably be a one night stand sort of thing. Besides, we didn't have much time to converse at all." Charles sighed, and Erik could almost see the sheepish smile on the professor's face.

Really, Charles? One night stand? That's some fucking brilliant choice of words you've got there. Were all professors this dense with regards to word choices or was it just Charles Xavier particularly. Not that Erik was complaining of course.

Erik leaned a little heavily against the studio door and said, "You're right, we didn't have time at all. So how about you drop by the studio after you're done with work, and we'll get to know each other better?"

There was no reply. For a second Erik had almost thought he'd screw the whole thing up – god he hadn't done this sort of thing for so long he didn't even know how it's supposed to work anymore— and then he heard a soft chuckle. "Sure. I'll see you on Friday then, Erik. See you soon. Good night."

"Good night." Erik replied.

The phone went dead soon after that.

Friday night. He'd just make a somewhat date with genetics professor cum part time radio story teller host and shit his heart rate was going at such an exhilarating pace he could barely breathe. This had never happened before. This had definitely never happened before, definately! Or well, at least it hadn't happened in such a long time he could hardly remember the last time a phone call and a promise to a work date had turned him into a fumbling teenage idiot.

God damn, he was so filled with euphoria he couldn't help but smile what Emma would have referred to as his 'shark smile', when the intern Sean walked past and accidentally, and to Erik's disgust, made eye contact with him. Sean totally freaked the hell out and ran down the corridor with dramatically deranged eyes

He could've sworn he heard the boy screaming to Raven something about Mr Lehnsherr finding out the coffee beans in the coffee machine expiring two weeks ago, and that Erik had pretty much polluted his own body with rotting coffee beans.

Erik went back into the recording room and cursed under his breath.


End file.
